To make a memory with you
by TwilightPony21
Summary: Harm completely loses his memory after crashing his Tomcat into the Atlantic. AU story within the Adrift episodes. Harm/Mac.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello again! While I was writing the little JAG drabbles, they inspired me to try this short story. Apparently I've fallen in love with Harm and Mac all over again, and I can't stop writing them. Disclaimer: I don't own them, and I don't know many technical details about flying Tomcats. Please forgive me! I hope you like the story and thanks for reading!**

* * *

 _He doesn't remember anything_.

Sarah MacKenzie could hear nothing else but the doctor's last four words echoing inside her head. On the eve of what was supposed to be her wedding to Mic Brumby, Harmon Rabb had just crashed a fighter plane into the Atlantic Ocean.

While Harm had spent the night drifting in cold, storm-tossed waters, Mac had spent the night praying for his rescue and survival. Her heart had lifted when she heard that the search and rescue helo had finally pulled him from the water, only to break down again when she heard that he was unconscious and dangerously hypothermic.

Now that he had finally woken up, safe and warm in a hospital bed at Bethesda, the doctor had just reported that he didn't remember anything – or anyone.

"Will his memory come back?" Mac asked.

"We think it's temporary," the doctor replied confidently. "This type of amnesia is very common in accidents like this. It takes time, but the memory usually does return. You can see him now, but he's not going to recognize you, so try not to overwhelm him with too much at once."

Mac nodded agreeably. Anything to be able to see Harm, to make sure that he was really alive. She glanced over at the small group of friends who had accompanied her to the hospital – the admiral, Mic, Chloe, Bud, and Harriet. All had been worried about Harm and had tried to comfort her as they awaited the news of his rescue. She took a deep breath and prayed they would continue to give her strength as they faced the friend who no longer remembered them.

* * *

 _He looks horrible_ , Mac thought as the group entered Harm's hospital room.

He lay motionless in the hospital bed, his eyes closed, a wide gauze bandage taped across his forehead, and various monitoring wires attached to his arms and chest. His face was bruised and discolored, but most of all he looked drained, as if the accident had put years of age on him.

 _But he was alive_.

"Commander," the admiral said quietly.

Harm's eyes opened slowly and he surveyed the group that had gathered around his bed.

"So I've been told," he whispered hoarsely. His voice was low and scratchy, as if every breath he took was a major effort.

"He doesn't even remember his own name." Renee Peterson sat perched on the bed next to him, one hand stroking his hair and the other clasped possessively over his arm.

"Commander Harmon Rabb," he croaked.

"That's because the doctor told you," Renee explained. "He also had to remind you that I'm your girlfriend."

"I'm sorry—"

Renee patted his hand. "It's okay, don't talk, sweetheart."

"I'm Admiral A.J. Chegwidden," the admiral introduced himself. "Judge Advocate General of the Navy and your commanding officer."

"Lieutenant Bud Roberts, sir," Bud said. "And my wife Harriet. We work with you at JAG."

"I'm Chloe," the little girl piped up. "I'm Mac's little sister. Well, I'm not really her sister. Mac's more like my surrogate mother. You guys helped her find my real dad, so I moved with him to my grandparents' farm, but then I came back for Mac's wedding, but then the wedding didn't happen because—"

"Chloe!" Mac interrupted. "You heard the doctor. We don't want—"

"To overwhelm him," Chloe finished. "Sorry."

Harm blinked in confusion. His eyes moved from Chloe to the pretty brunette standing next to her.

"Mac?" he guessed.

"Yeah, I'm here, Harm." She couldn't stop herself from taking a step closer to him.

His brow furrowed, as if he were trying to place her in his memory but couldn't.

"Did I miss a wedding?"

Mac shook her head. "You didn't."

"I'm sorry—"

"No, don't worry about it. It's the least of our concerns."

She saw Mic shift uncomfortably out of the corner of her eye.

"Harm, this is Mic Brumby," she said. "My fiancé."

"I'm sorry." Harm sighed. It seemed to be the only thing he could say to everybody.

Mic's eyes darted nervously from Mac to Harm. "No worries, mate," he finally said.

But he bristled slightly as Mac laid a friendly hand on Harm's shoulder.

"You just work on getting better," she said. "And getting your memory back, okay?"

"Excuse me." A young nurse stood in the doorway holding some medical supplies. "I just need to check the commander's vitals and draw some blood."

"Of course," the admiral replied, motioning to everyone to move aside.

As his guests obediently started to file out of the room, Harm felt Mac's fingers run down his arm and squeeze his hand. He squeezed back lightly, and she looked up at him, her eyes filled with relief.

And for a reason he couldn't remember, he didn't want to let go.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for reading and for your nice reviews! I hope you like Chapter 2.**

* * *

 _Two weeks later…_

It was early evening when Mac arrived home. She came through the door with a smile on her face, automatically pausing to hang up her coat and purse. When she turned around, she found Mic sitting on the arm of the couch, waiting for her.

"Hi," she said pleasantly. "Sorry I'm late. I stopped to see Harm at Bethesda. He's going home tonight. The doctor wants to get him back into his normal routine as soon as possible to help regain his memory."

"Oh." Mic sounded strangely quiet. "That's—that's good."

"Yeah, it is." Mac smiled as she stepped in front of him and kissed him. She felt him pull back from the embrace. "What's wrong?"

"I'm leaving, Sarah."

"Leaving?" She gave a sharp laugh, as if it were a joke. "For where?"

"Australia."

A tight knot was starting to form in her stomach as she realized there was no humor in his voice.

"Mic." She suddenly noticed the duffel bag at his feet.

"Sarah, we were supposed to be married by now. We should have already been on our honeymoon. But you haven't mentioned any of that in two weeks, and you've barely said a word to me in the same time."

Her face fell. "Mic, I'm sorry," she said softly. "But you know I've been busy. Trying to keep up with work and with Harm's plane crash and now his memory loss. I can't think about a wedding right now."

"You can't? Or you won't?" Mic asked. "Sarah, I'm not blind. I wish I were, because then I wouldn't be able to see what he means to you. There's a light in your eyes when you're with him, when you talk about him."

"He's my best friend," Mac protested, "and right now he doesn't even remember me."

"I was going to be your husband. Did you ever stop to remember that?"

"Mic, please." She blinked back the tears threatening to fall from her eyes. "We can work this out."

"I don't think so, Sarah. Not this time."

With a last wistful look at her, Mic swung the duffel bag over his shoulder and headed for the door. She tried to grab his arm, but he turned quickly to avoid her.

"Bye, beautiful."

"Mic!"

But it was too late. Mac felt a sharp pain in her chest and a sob in her throat, and the strangled cry echoed in an empty room. And as the door closed behind him, she threw herself on the couch and wept.

* * *

 _So this is where I live_.

Harm stood in the middle of his apartment, taking in his surroundings.

 _Nice place, I guess._

Using a cane to support his battered body, he limped over to the desk and picked up a couple of the framed photos.

A little dark-haired boy sitting in the cockpit of a fighter plane while his father looked on with pride.

A photo of himself with a younger, blonder man in front of a helicopter. The words printed on the side of the aircraft looked Russian, Harm thought.

He had just eased himself down on the couch when he heard a knock at his door.

"Coming!" he called. He ignored the sharp pain in his back as he grabbed the side of the couch for support and quickly looked around for his cane. He hobbled to the door and swung it open.

"Hi."

"Hi, uh…Mac." He looked at her, hopeful that he had gotten the name right. "What's wrong? You look miserable."

"So do you."

"Oh, I'm fine," he said with a wave of his hand. "I'm getting around with this thing"—he motioned to his cane—"I can't remember anything or anyone, this apartment doesn't even feel like mine, although they tell me it is." His voice was just a little too bright, a little too teasing to fool her. She knew he was frustrated.

"Harm, you renovated this place yourself."

"I did?" He stepped back to let her in. "Well, then, come on in. Maybe you can give me a tour."

Mac hesitated. "Maybe I shouldn't."

"Mac, come on in."

With a heavy sigh, she entered the apartment and turned around to get a good look at him. He didn't stand as tall because he was leaning heavily on his cane. His face was still bruised but starting to heal. And there was a distant look in his eyes that caught her attention – his eyes looked so lost and confused.

"Harm." Her voice was soft, and she wanted to reach out and touch him, but she didn't dare.

Instead she choked back a sob and launched into her own story. "Mic is leaving," she said. "He's going back to Australia. My fiancé," she added in case he didn't remember.

"Why?" Harm asked.

"He doesn't believe I love him."

"Do you?"

"I thought so."

Suddenly starting to feel the ache in his back, Harm motioned for her to come sit next to him on the couch. She did, flopping onto the cushions and leaning back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling.

"So what happened?"

"I—I don't know. Everything was going fine. Harm, we had everything set for the wedding. We had the church and the caterers and the music and the gifts. And we had the rehearsal dinner, and we were going to be married until—"

"I crashed a plane into the ocean the night before."

Mac looked at him in surprise. "You remember?"

"No." Harm shook his head. "It's just what I've been told. Mac, I'm sorry."

"No, I'm the one who should be sorry," Mac said, suddenly sitting up on the couch and swiping a hand over her teary eyes. "You don't need to hear this. I shouldn't be bothering you, especially when you're not—"

"It's okay," Harm reassured her. "It feels…familiar. Like we've done this before. Have we?"

She laughed sadly. "Probably. I…um, haven't had the greatest track record with relationships."

"Talk to me," he said softly. "Remind me."

He could have sworn she moved closer to him on the couch, seeking a silent comfort that he couldn't remember how to give but somehow seemed to accomplish anyway.

She gently touched his face, her fingers tracing the black and blue scars that ran down his cheek. "I'm glad you're alive, flyboy," she whispered.

 _Flyboy?_ The nickname seemed to touch something deep within him. _Why? What does it mean?_ Harm felt a pleasant warmth spreading through him, starting with the heat from her hand on his cheek. The way she looked at him, the way she touched him with such tenderness. _Why can't I remember her? Is there a thing with us?_

"Mac, did we…are we…?"

Just then, the door swung open.

"Mac." Renee couldn't hide her surprise – and displeasure – at finding the other woman sitting on the couch with her boyfriend.

"Renee," Mac said politely.

"Harm, I brought dinner," Renee said, setting a bag down on the counter. "You ready to eat?"

"Um, yeah. Mac, you want to join us?"

"Oh, no," Mac said quickly, not sure she could stomach any food right now, especially with the pointed glare Renee was giving her. "I have to get going. Thanks for listening, Harm."

"I'll, um, walk you to the door," he said, reaching for his cane.

"No, don't get up," Mac insisted. "You're still healing, Harm. Let Renee take care of you."

"Mac—"

"Don't worry about me," she said. "I'll be fine."

And before he could say anything more, she turned and fled from his apartment.

* * *

"Mic dumped you?" Chloe exclaimed over the phone that night. "But why would he do that?" She had returned home soon after Harm's rescue, but she had made Mac promise to call her with details about rescheduling the wedding. Except now it looked like that wasn't going to happen.

"Because I didn't love him with all my heart," Mac admitted sadly.

Chloe tried to feel sorry for her sister, but secretly she was glad that Mac couldn't see the smirk on her face. "So how's Harm?"

"He's okay," Mac replied. "He still doesn't remember anything."

"Maybe you can tell him that he was supposed to marry you."

"Chloe!"

Chloe grinned. "So is he there with you? Are you taking care of him?"

"Renee is staying with him. At his place."

"Why didn't you offer to stay with him?"

"Chloe, I'm not discussing this with you," Mac said sternly.

"Mac, you're his best friend. If there's anyone who can help him get his memory back, it's you."

"Good night, Chloe. I'm hanging up now."

"Think about it, okay, Mac?"

As she hung up the phone, Mac breathed a sigh of relief. She didn't want to admit to Chloe that she couldn't _stop_ thinking about it. She had actually been thinking about it long before they heard Harm was lost at sea and long before she had even met Mic. If she were completely honest with herself, she was thinking that she had fallen for her best friend from the moment they met – a moment that he didn't even remember anymore.


	3. Chapter 3

_One week later…_

Harm stood in front of the mirror in his bathroom, buttoning the front of his uniform. He was finally cleared to return to work tomorrow, and he thought maybe he should make sure he remembered how to dress appropriately for a military office.

His memory was still extremely vague. It seemed like bits and pieces floated through his mind, but he couldn't grasp them long enough to put them together.

Renee had been nice, staying over in his apartment and bringing him dinner on several occasions. He had discovered that he was a vegetarian after biting into something suspiciously red and meaty, and she had apologized profusely for that particular dish.

Over dinner, Renee had told him about her work as a video director, and she told him that he spent a lot of time at work at JAG. She said that was how they met, through one of her videos about the Navy filmed at the JAG office.

She kissed him a lot and they slept in the same bed, although they hadn't gone any further than that. For a while, Harm had been so sore that he wasn't sure he could go further even if he had wanted to. But now it was a little strange to be intimate with a woman that he didn't even remember, and he felt like there was also something else holding him back. Something important, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

He studied himself critically in the mirror. _Who am I?_ , he asked his reflection.

He traced a finger over the gold wings on his chest. _Well, they're shiny_ , he thought blankly.

 _You know what they say about dress whites and gold wings._

Mac? He thought he heard her voice in his head. He hadn't seen her since last week when she had stopped by to inform him of her broken engagement. Why had she come to him anyway? He didn't remember his own relationship, much less anything about hers. But she had said it wasn't the first time they had talked like that. Was there something else to the relationship between the two of them?

 _Don't get too familiar. You're gonna work together._

He knew they worked together at JAG, but that still didn't explain why his heart beat just a little faster around her.

 _Bits and pieces_ , he thought angrily. _That's all_.

"Hey, sailor."

Renee interrupted his thoughts as she came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "What are you doing?"

"Just making sure I know how to get dressed tomorrow." He looked down at himself doubtfully and then back at his reflection. "I guess this is okay."

"Well, then…" she whispered seductively in his ear. "Can I help you get undressed?"

* * *

" _How you doing, Mac?"_

 _He could hear her breathing heavily in the backseat of the Tomcat._

" _Don't ask."_

 _He couldn't help but chuckle. "Suck it up, Marine. We're almost home."_

 _The sun had already dipped below the horizon, and darkness was quickly falling over the open sea._

" _1-7-3 Tomcat. Ball, three point five."_

" _Harm, are you sure we're gonna make it?"_

" _Roger, ball."_

" _Harm?"_

 _He could hear Mac calling to him, but her voice was becoming jumbled with the radio messages from the flight crew. He had to concentrate. The outline of the carrier deck blurred in front of his eyes, and Harm blinked rapidly in an effort to focus on his landing. But everything just kept fading away until all he could see was pitch black darkness._

" _You're a little low."_

" _Power! Power! Power!"_

 _That was the last thing he heard before the plane smashed into the carrier deck and exploded into flames._

~*~o~*~

"Mac!"

Harm was jolted out of his nightmare by his own screaming. He threw back the covers, feeling his heart pounding with fear and trying to catch his breath.

"Harm, what's wrong?" came the groggy voice from the other side of the bed.

"Mac," he whispered breathlessly.

"Did you just call me Mac again?"

"What?" He rubbed his eyes, as if he were trying to see more clearly, but his hand just came away damp with sweat. "No, I was dreaming—"

"About her?" Renee was wide awake now.

"I—I don't know."

"Harm." Renee's voice was almost patronizing. He had turned down her advances again that night, and she was starting to lose patience with his memory loss, especially if he was dreaming about Mac instead.

She rolled over, laid a hand on his chest, and pushed him back against the pillows. "It was just a nightmare. You have no memory, and you're worried about going back to work tomorrow. That's all. Relax and go back to sleep."

He tried.

Once his heartbeat had slowed down a little, he did settle back into bed, pulling the covers over himself. But every time he closed his eyes, he couldn't shake the image of Mac engulfed in the burning plane.

He remained awake for a long time.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi, everyone! Thanks for reading and reviewing! I'm so glad you like the story so far. I definitely plan to finish it over the next few days – it's only 8 chapters long. I guess that means Harm needs to hurry up and get his memory back!**

* * *

"Welcome back, sir! I'm Lieutenant Bud Roberts, remember? We visited you in the hospital."

Bud's excited voice greeted Harm the next morning as he walked into JAG with a somewhat overwhelmed expression on his face.

"I do," Harm replied. "Thanks for meeting me, Lieutenant."

"No problem at all, sir. How are you feeling?"

"Better. Still a little banged up, but better."

"Still no memory?"

"Still no memory," Harm confirmed.

"Well, let me show you around and introduce you to some people."

"Gunny!" Bud called as they entered the office. "Commander, Gunnery Sergeant Victor Galindez, but we call him Gunny."

"Welcome back, sir," the Marine saluted.

"And you met Harriet."

Bud's cheerful blond wife gave him a huge smile. "Welcome back, sir. It's so good to see you again."

"Welcome back, Commander."

"Sir, this is Lieutenant Singer—"

"And let me just say for the record, sir, if you need any help whatsoever with your caseload due to the incapacitation of your memory, I'm available to provide assistance—"

"Thank you, Lieutenant Singer," Bud said dismissively as he noticed Harm's eyes glazing over.

With a slight huff, she disappeared down the hallway.

"I don't like her, do I?" Harm asked.

"No, sir, not many people do," Bud assured him.

"And this is your office," Bud announced. He motioned to the stack of files on the desk. "Colonel MacKenzie had me pull some of your old case files. She thought maybe looking through some of them would jog your memory."

Harm's eyes widened at the massive pile of paperwork. "Oh. Thanks. I think."

He reached for the top file. "Lieutenant Diane Schonke."

"Uh, sorry, sir, I didn't realize that one was on top."

 _White female. Shot twice in the chest at close range. She was the crypto officer onboard._

 _You can't investigate the murder of your girlfriend._

"Morning."

Harm looked up to see Mac standing in the doorway, and the color drained from his face.

"Diane?"

Mac froze. He hadn't looked at her like that in a long time. She shook her head. "Mac."

"Sorry, ma'am," Bud apologized. "I gave him some old case files like you asked. He was just looking at the Lieutenant Schonke case."

"Bud!" When she had made the suggestion, that hadn't exactly been the first case she had in mind.

"No, I'm sorry," Harm said quickly. "I…uh, must have gotten some things mixed up." He laughed self-consciously and pointed to his head. "Still got some wires crossed."

"Did you need something, ma'am?" Bud asked.

"The commander," Mac said. "The admiral would like to see us."

"I'll be right there." Harm tossed the file on top of the stack and headed towards the door.

He looked like he was about to breeze right by Mac in the doorway, but suddenly he came to a stop and gave her a long, scrutinizing look.

The intensity in his eyes was almost unbearable.

 _He's remembering Diane_ , she realized. _And how much I look like her. But he's not remembering me._

* * *

"Commander Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie here to see you, sir!"

"Thank you, Tiner. Let them in." As his two senior attorneys entered the office, the admiral motioned to the chairs. "At ease and please take a seat. I've just been notified that a Lieutenant Medwick on the _USS Patrick Henry_ has been accused of reckless operation of a Tomcat during a training exercise."

"Medwick?" Mac repeated. "Isn't that—"

"Call sign Tuna," the admiral confirmed.

"Tuna?" Harm asked.

"No, Commander, I don't know why he's named after a fish that comes in a can."

"He was your roommate when you were on board the _Patrick Henry_ ," Mac whispered.

"Captain Ingles wants to know why a competent Tomcat pilot suddenly flies off course and nearly takes out the side of the carrier during a routine training exercise. Colonel, I'm sending you out to the _Patrick Henry_ to investigate. I'm sending the commander along with you to observe."

"Observe, sir?"

"Well, he's medically cleared to return to work. He just can't remember how to do any of it. A trip out to that carrier might do him some good."

"Yes, sir."

"That will be all. Dismissed."

Mac stood at attention, and Harm followed her lead. "Aye, aye, sir."

"Colonel?" the admiral called as an afterthought.

"Sir?"

"You keep an eye on him and that thick skull of his."

Mac stifled a smile. "Aye, aye, sir."


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you all for reading and for your very nice reviews. I love that so many people still remember Harm and Mac. The site seems to be acting a little funny today, so I hope this chapter posts okay. Thanks again for reading!**

* * *

"Well, Commander, you look better than the last time I saw you." Captain Ingles welcomed them aboard the ship in his usual gruff tone. "A little less hypothermic blue, I think."

"Thank you, sir, uh..." Harm looked over at Mac helplessly.

"Captain Ingles," she supplied.

"Are you so waterlogged that you don't remember who I am, Commander?"

"He has amnesia from his crash, sir," Mac explained.

Captain Ingles looked at Harm critically. "And he's back on the job?"

"He's observing, sir."

"Well, somebody needs to observe what's going on around here. With you and Skates going down a few weeks ago and now Tuna playing dodgeball with the carrier deck, I'm beginning to think my pilots are cursed."

"Where is Skates, sir?" Mac asked out of curiosity.

"She's on leave. After her dunk in the Atlantic, she needed some time to recover, although she didn't look half as bad as you did, Commander. But she also requested leave to take care of some wedding plans. She and her fiancé decided to move up the wedding. Guess after taking a ride like that, you take another look at the priorities in your life."

Captain Ingles didn't miss the way the colonel glanced longingly over at the commander, nor did he miss the way the commander returned the look.

Harm cleared his throat. "Well, sir, right now the priority in my life is remembering it."

"And mine is getting to the bottom of my pilot problem. Commander, Colonel, I'll take you to see Tuna."

* * *

"Hammer!" Tuna extended his hand to his former roommate, glad to see his old friend. "Colonel MacKenzie," he acknowledged politely.

"Hammer's your call sign, Harm," Mac said. "Same as your father. Tuna, you may have to fill in some of the blanks for him."

"You okay, Hammer?"

Harm sighed. "Apparently I left my memory at the bottom of the Atlantic."

"Yeah, I heard. That was some stunt you survived."

"Just barely. The admiral wants to see if being back on the carrier will help jumpstart my memory."

"Well, I'm glad you're here, Hammer," Tuna said. "Captain Ingles has grounded me until this whole thing is cleared up."

"Can you tell us what happened?" Mac asked.

"It was a routine training exercise, ma'am," Tuna explained. "Take off, fly a series of patterns at various altitudes, and come home."

"And what happened when you tried to land?"

"The angle just didn't feel right, ma'am. I swerved and circled around again."

"Captain Ingles said you almost hit the side of the carrier."

"Like I said, the angle didn't feel right."

"Were you drunk?"

"No, ma'am."

"Drugs?"

"No, ma'am."

"Then tell me something, Lieutenant, how does a competent pilot misjudge the landing so badly on such a routine exercise?"

"There's something wrong with the plane, ma'am."

"Did you have it looked at?"

"Of course. Our mechanics went over that bird from top to bottom, but they couldn't find anything wrong."

"So what makes you so sure it was the plane and not the pilot?"

"I'm sure," Tuna insisted, meeting Mac's eyes with a level stare. "That's why I was glad to see Hammer. I was hoping he could find something they didn't."

Mac didn't back down from his gaze. "Well, unfortunately, you're gonna have to find Hammer's memory first."

* * *

Later that evening, Mac wasn't surprised to find Harm out above the deck watching the Tomcats and their night landing exercises. The ocean wind was blowing hard, and it slammed the door closed behind her.

"How'd you find me?"

She grinned. "Where else would I find a former Tomcat pilot?"

"Actually I think Tuna left me here just so I wouldn't find my way back."

Mac laughed. "So you haven't remembered how to navigate carriers yet?"

"Not at all."

"Anything else coming back?"

He shrugged. "A little bit here, a little bit there."

The two of them fell silent as the engines revved from below and another Tomcat took off into the sky.

Mac bit her lip nervously. "So, uh, Renee must be helping you out, right?"

"I guess." Harm sounded uncomfortable at the mention of Renee.

"She's not?"

"I don't know," he said, looking away as if slightly embarrassed. "I just get this feeling that she and I…we're not really…maybe she's not the one."

"The one?"

"You know."

Mac shook her head. "You're talking to the wrong person, Harm."

Instantly, his expression softened. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"You doing okay after your breakup?"

"I'm fine," Mac said quickly.

Harm raised an eyebrow. "So how are you really doing?"

"How do you do that?"

"What?"

"Always know when something's bothering me."

"I don't remember."

Mac smiled. For just a moment, she heard the voice of her cheeky best friend instead of the uncertain man without a memory.

"It hurts," she admitted. "I really thought Mic was the one, but maybe Captain Ingles is right. Maybe things happen that make you step back and take a look at what you really want in life."

"And what do you want?"

She sighed wistfully. "A great career, a good man—"

"And comfortable shoes. Lots and lots of them," Harm finished.

Mac was surprised. "You remember that?"

Harm blinked as if he were trying to process the memory. "I guess I do."

 _You know, for a second there, I thought we were going to have a Hallmark moment._

"Mac, it might not be pilot error," Harm said suddenly.

"What?"

"The guys flying these planes"—he motioned to the deck below—"have to be precise in everything they do. There's no way a pilot would purposely come in for a landing like that without a reason. If we could recreate Tuna's exact flight, we might be able to figure out if there was a mechanical failure in the plane."

Mac stared at him in wonder. She watched his eyes follow the takeoff of another Tomcat and the trailing light of its afterburners.

He was starting to talk like an aviator again. His memory was starting to come back.


	6. Chapter 6

"Not gonna happen. Not on my ship and not on my watch, Colonel."

"Captain," Mac pleaded. "The only way to restore his memory is to put him back in a Tomcat."

Captain Ingles scowled. "Colonel, Commander Rabb is a damn good pilot, but he can barely remember his own name right now. What makes you think he can remember how to fly a fighter plane?"

"With all due respect, Captain, this might be the only way to help him remember." Her tone softened. "Please, sir. You know he just passed his quals."

"Usually you have to remember you're a pilot in order to qualify as one."

"And somewhere inside his head, he's still qualified," Mac argued. "Captain, not only will this help Commander Rabb's memory, but if he can recreate Tuna's flight pattern, we might be able to figure out what happened out there."

Captain Ingles frowned. "Well, Tuna is grounded," he finally said. "And Skates is on leave. I don't think I have anyone else crazy enough to fly with him."

"I'll fly with him."

"Are you crazy, Colonel?"

"Maybe just a little, sir."

"Maybe just about him."

"Sir," Mac reasoned, ignoring his last remark, "if you put him back in the cockpit, the only way we're getting off the deck is if he remembers how to fly. If he doesn't, then we're not going anywhere."

Captain Ingles couldn't really argue with that logic. He sighed in resignation and then slowly, he nodded.

* * *

"Are you crazy, Mac? I can't do this."

"Yes, you can," Mac insisted.

"Mac, I don't know how to fly this thing!"

"What are you talking about? You live to fly these forty million dollar heaps of metal!"

The two of them were strapped securely into the cockpit of Tuna's Tomcat, and the flight crew on deck had already signaled them clear for takeoff. The sea was quiet and the sky was bright with conditions similar to those they were trying to replicate.

But Harm stared at the controls completely blankly.

So many switches, so many gauges, so many buttons, so many lights.

 _So what now? You thinking about trying to return to a fighter squadron?_

 _I spent my life preparing to be a naval aviator, Mac._

 _All I've ever really wanted to do is fly._

She couldn't see his face, but Mac could have sworn she saw the wheels turning inside his head. Without saying a word, his hands started moving over the controls, something deeply ingrained inside of him showing him what to do.

She gasped as she saw the lights flicker on the front panel and heard the startup roar of the engines behind her. The deck below her suddenly began to spin, and Mac braced herself as the Tomcat gained momentum and launched off the runway into the sky.

As the plane rapidly accelerated up to speed, she unclenched her hands from the fists that she hadn't realized she had formed during takeoff.

"Ohhh," she breathed as she watched the ocean disappear below.

She felt a little dizzy, and her stomach felt like it had dropped out beneath her, but her pilot was smooth, calm, and collected, like he was exactly where he belonged again.

"What's our flight plan, Mac?" he asked. "We're climbing to angels 30."

Mac gathered her senses long enough to read him the pattern of different altitude changes. They climbed steadily, dove back down, flattened out, and repeated over and over at different heights.

As they broke above the clouds once more, Mac felt her stomach churn.

"Last one, Harm," she said. "After this, we can go home."

"Mac?"

"Yeah?"

"We got a couple of problems. One, there's a sensor in this plane that isn't reading the plane's position. It only failed after all those rapid changes of altitude. It thinks the plane isn't at the height it actually is, so the pilot has to override it."

"So Tuna did the right thing by circling around before he landed," Mac concluded. "So what's the other problem?"

She didn't get an answer.

"Harm?"

"Mac, I'm not sure if I remember how to land."


	7. Chapter 7

"What the hell does he mean he can't remember how to land?" Captain Ingles sputtered.

"Guess he didn't get that part of his memory back yet, sir," Tuna replied calmly.

"So how are we gonna get that bird out of the air?"

"Pray he gets his memory back before they run out of fuel, sir?"

Captain Ingles growled angrily. "Tuna, can you talk him through a landing?"

"Sir, I don't know if that's possible—"

"Damn it, I'm not about to lose another Tomcat because we've got a pilot who can't remember how to land! Whose idea was this anyway?"

"Colonel MacKenzie's, sir," Tuna reminded him.

"Well, can _she_ land the plane?"

"I don't think so, sir."

The captain grabbed the radio. "Commander Rabb, Colonel MacKenzie, what the hell is going on up there?"

"He's trying to remember, sir," Mac replied.

"Trying isn't going to land that Tomcat, Colonel."

"He's circling around again, sir," Tuna reported, his eyes following the plane in the distance.

"How long until he runs out of fuel?"

"Not long. You burn a lot flying at the low altitudes and going from low to high so fast."

"Sir, give him a few more minutes," Mac said. "I know he can do this."

"You've only got a few more minutes, Colonel. And if it comes down to it, you'll be forced to eject."

Harm vaguely heard the conversation between Mac, Tuna, and the captain. He held a steady hand on the plane, keeping it level and circling within sight of the carrier, but he could not remember how to land several tons of steel on a deck in the middle of the ocean.

He heard Mac's breathing in his ear, her short, sharp breaths accompanied by a heavy pulsing of adrenaline.

 _You've come with me farther than anyone I know._

 _I'll never forget that, Mac._

It had always felt right to have her there with him.

 _Mac, you have someone who will always love you._

 _And you have somebody that loves you._

He wouldn't have wanted anyone else.

"Harm!"

As the nose of the plane dipped down in the sky, he could hear Mac's voice growing desperate.

 _You're gonna be okay, Mac. I'm gonna get you through this. I promise._

"Hammer, you're gonna be on bingo fuel pretty soon," Tuna's voice came through the radio. "You're either gonna have to land that bird or eject."

So many voices in his head.

So many memories flooding his mind.

And then suddenly one voice came through loud and clear.

 _Come on, son._

 _Dad?_

 _I know you can make this trap._

 _Dad, I can't._

 _What do you mean you can't? You were born to be a naval aviator. It's in your blood._

 _But I don't remember._

 _Of course you do. Go on, son. Catch that three wire._

Mac felt her stomach lurch as Harm pulled the plane up from its graceful nosedive. It soared through the air as he angled the wings in line with the carrier. And suddenly the landing gear descended, and Mac was thrown forward as the Tomcat made impact and came to a screeching halt on the deck.

And at that moment, Mac felt her stomach catch up with her heart.


	8. Chapter 8

**And so we have come to the final chapter. I've had a lot of fun writing this story - thank you all for reading and for your nice comments. It's been great to meet some other JAG fans out there, and I hope you like the ending.**

* * *

"Well, Captain, it looks like it's not the pilots who are cursed but your planes."

"I think I'm the one cursed with a bunch of crazy pilots," Captain Ingles muttered.

He watched as Harm climbed out of the cockpit and held his hand out for Mac to do the same.

"You could have a whole fleet of Tomcats with faulty sensors, but you'd never know it because they only fail under certain conditions," Harm said.

"Like a training exercise in unusual altitudes," Mac added.

She swayed slightly as her feet landed on the deck, and her legs crumpled like jelly as Harm grabbed her around the waist.

"You've got one crazy Marine there, Hammer," Captain Ingles said. "She would fly to the moon and back with you."

Harm grinned. "And I would take her, sir."

"Well, let's hope you remember how to get home if you do." The captain eyed the two of them thoughtfully. "Commander, who helped you land that plane?"

"My father, sir."

A small smile crept onto Captain Ingles's hardened face. He raised his right hand in salute, and Harm did the same.

"Welcome back, Hammer."

* * *

A little while later, Harm and Mac made their way below deck, following Tuna back to their quarters and discussing the investigation.

"So the sensor told you that the plane was too high to land, but it didn't recognize that if you were any lower, you would hit the side of the carrier."

"Well, any competent pilot isn't going to fly into the side of a carrier," Tuna said.

"Who said anything about a competent pilot?" Harm teased.

"Oh, right, I forgot that competent pilots know how to land their planes," Tuna shot back. "You're just lucky that your memory saved your six out there, Hammer."

Mac laughed as she listened to the two men rib each other. They stepped into the room, and Tuna leaned against the doorway.

"So what happens now?" he asked.

"Well, the Navy will want to take a further look at those sensors," Mac replied. "But our preliminary report is going to recommend inspection and replacement. And it's also going to clear the pilot of reckless operation."

"Thanks, Colonel," Tuna said with a smile. "You're all right for a lawyer."

"Just all right?" Mac teased.

"Well, you know, just because you're Hammer's girl and all…"

Mac raised an eyebrow, and Harm shoved his former roommate out the door. "Tuna, get out."

Tuna grinned. "Welcome back, Hammer."

Harm pushed the door closed and turned to Mac, rolling his eyes and grinning at the same time.

"Welcome back, flyboy." Mac couldn't contain her smile as she enveloped him in a hug.

"Thanks, Mac," he whispered in her ear. "For having faith in me."

"Well, thanks for landing that plane in one piece," she said cheekily. "So you remember everything now?"

"I do."

"You remember the crash?"

"Down to the last drop of salt water I swallowed."

"You remember the first time I beat you in court?"

He scoffed. "That doesn't count, I dropped that case."

"You shot a hole in the roof."

"I don't need you to remind me anymore, thanks."

"You remember Russia?" Mac asked.

"You were there for me. Twice."

"And the party, on the admiral's porch?"

His eyes suddenly clouded over. "Yes."

"I'll wait for you, Harm," she said softly.

"For how long?" he dared to ask.

"As long as it takes." She took a step closer to him. "Harm, having you here with no memory was like being reminded every day of what my life would be like without you. Because a part of you was missing, a part of me was missing, too. Harm, I came so close to losing you, and I don't want to remember—"

"Mac." He put a finger to her lips to silence her. "What do you say we stop looking back on the memories?"

"What?"

"And start making new ones."

He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead and another one to her cheek. His hands moved to caress her face, and he tilted her head back slightly. And when his lips brushed against hers, something inside both of them exploded.

"Only if you'll be there," she whispered when she was able to catch her breath.

"I will," he promised. He lowered his mouth to hers again.

 _And only if I make every memory with you_.


End file.
